Guardian of Love
by Penelope Jadewing
Summary: Elliot thought he was dead. Over the hill. Pushing up daisies. But he's not. Sure, his hair is red for some reason, and he has wings, but he's alive. And now, he's plunged into a world he never dreamed existed - one where a giant rabbit fights with boomerangs, a mountain of a Russian man flies in a sleigh, and a kid with a staff literally causes winter. Drabbles. No slash.
1. Bloody Ghost

**A/N: Sooooo... yeah, this is a weird crossover. I don't think I've ever seen it before. BUT. Bunnies. So many plot bunnies. They won't leave me alone.**

**So, I thought this concept was interesting. The idea of Elliot still living on, but as an immortal in a crossover universe with Rise of the Guardians. I'm not going to tell you what/who he's returned as; I'll let you guess until it's revealed. ;) I don't even know how many views this is gonna get... considering the obscure crossover category. So... R & R? Writers live on reviews. Love you guys.**

**~Penelope**

* * *

Elliot was positive he was dead. He even remembered it, which was strange. He remembered choking out his last words, gasping out his last breath, and then…

Here he was. In the dungeon below Isla Yura's mansion. Everyone was gone though, and the only light was silver moonlight that streamed through the shallow windows. The splash of ethereal light illuminated a dark spot that marred the neutral stone floor – a massive pool of old blood. It no longer held what must've once been bright red, and had instead darkened to burgundy.

The tragic consequences of Oz's second Coming of Age ceremony flashed through his mind, and suddenly, his stomach churned. He felt ill, and clamped a hand over his mouth as a weak whimper threatened to escape him.

That blood. It was his.

He swallowed hard, and shuffled a bit closer. The moonlight caught on his clothes, and he realized that they were dry, clean, whole. No wounds. No blood. He clenched his fists, feeling his gloves stretch.

This was all wrong.

As he leaned over the bloodstain, he knew something felt off. Firstly, instead of the familiar strands of unruly sandy hair hanging over his forehead, the fringe radiated a bright red color in the moon's light.

"What the-!?" He pinched a bit of his bangs between his gloved fingers and crossed his eyes to stare up at it until his eyes hurt. Red! His hair was red! And not a natural, soft red either. An unnatural, dark red, dark like…

Blood.

He dropped the hair, shuddering. He was dead. He was supposed to be dead! This certainly wasn't how he'd imagined the afterlife.

Glancing back at the tunnels leading away, he wondered where everyone had gone. Had he merely been unconscious, and only dreamed he died? Had the party ended? But… why was he forgotten? And why was his hair red? Was this someone's cruel idea of a joke?

He made his way through the tunnels and back into the mansion. With horror, he realized that it was nearly destroyed. Black scorch marks reached around corners like ghostly shadows, and further in, the wallpaper had been burned through, leaving blackened wooden walls. Or, what was left of them. Curtains had disintegrated to nothing, glass warped in the ashen window frames, and… bodies. Oh, the half-burned bodies and stench of death made him want to retch.

Unfortunately, he couldn't find the door. He found many different hallways, more scorch marks, and enough bodies to give him nightmares for a lifetime – some headless, he noted with a deep-set cringe – but no door.

Finally, he could stand it no longer, and he threw his weight into the nearest rotting window. Weight tugged at his back. The window pane fell out easily, and for a second, silence. Then he jumped at the sound of shattering glass. It echoed through the wilderness that surrounded the late foreign cult leader's home. Some crows took to the air in fright.

What was that? Something was trembling, against his shoulders. Quivering, like a scared animal. He glanced over his shoulder, and nearly met a face-full of white feathers.

A great white wing protruded from his shoulder blade.

His jaw dropped. There was no way this was real.

He had wings. And red hair. What on earth?

This was just too weird. But he really didn't feel like thinking about it. Something else weighed on his mind. A bespectacled servant, a blond friend, a raven-haired brother. What had happened to them?

He jumped out the window, and yelped when he felt his wings act of their own accord to steady him over the three-foot drop. He staggered when his feet hit the ground, and his wings overcorrected, almost sending him to the ground. Feet shuffling, he managed to save himself, and slowly straightened, hands out in instinct to balance.

A sigh leaked from his lungs. "This is so weird."

A hole opened up not five yards away, and he froze. It wasn't as if the hole had broken, fallen in or anything. It sucked down, like sand in a funnel. He stared at it, apprehensive. Strange things were happening tonight, and he didn't like it.

A great form jumped out of the hole, in turn making Elliot jump out of his skin. His hand instinctively flew to his hip, where his rapier should be. His fingers met empty air; his scabbard was empty.

"Relax, mate," the figure said, standing tall. Two long… ears? They protruded from the stranger's head, silhouetted against the night sky. "I ain't here to hurt ya."

A strange accent… Very strange. He'd never heard it before. Elliot swallowed, realizing his hands were out in defensive position, despite his being weaponless. He didn't lower them. "Who are you? What are you? Do you know what happened here?"

"Yeah… I do," the man – the voice was masculine, at least – replied, ignoring the first two questions. He stepped forward, and Elliot narrowed his eyes against the moonlight.

A face covered in grey and white fur greeted him, and he staggered back. What in the world was _that_!? He stared at the creature with wide eyes.

A rabbit. It looked like a bipedal, six-foot rabbit. With back scabbard.

He was hallucinating. That was the only explanation.

The rabbit shook his head, green eyes looking on him with sympathy, bushy black eyebrows quirking. "Let me explain, kid."

"I've lost it, haven't I?" Elliot muttered, raking his fingers through his hair. So this is what insanity felt like. He didn't like it. "I've completely, utterly lost it…"

"Not quite."

"How would you know?" he spat.

"Because you're actually dead. Sort of."

Elliot's heart hit his stomach like a rock, and his hands dropped to his sides. Was… Was he really? Could this… potential apparition be speaking truthfully? "Am I?"

"Believe me. You are. Like I said, sort of."

Elliot frowned. "What do you mean, sort of?"

"I mean you died, but you're not finished here yet. Your time as a mortal was cut short, so you're gonna hang around for a while longer."

But… But… "That's not how it works! That's not… That's not right."

"Only in most cases. You, anklebiter, are special. Which is why the Big Man Upstairs called ya to stay." The big creature crossed his arms, ears angling back.

"The… Big… what?" Was Elliot really talking to a giant rabbit? Oh, wait… He shook his head to himself.

"The Big Man Upstairs. I'm sure you know o' Him. Apparently, he told Manny about ya, and then Manny told us."

Manny? Us? What on earth was this rabbit talking about? "I really have no idea what you're saying, and I'd appreciate it if you'd actually start explaining some things." He tried – and failed – to keep the venom out of his voice. He didn't like all this cryptic talk. It made his head hurt.

"It's a lot t' take in," said the rabbit, crouching down to scratch behind an ear with his large rabbit's foot. "I'm supposed t' take ya to the Pole. North will explain most of everything."

Wait, leave? The Pole? What, no! He had to check on Leo, Oz, Gil, everyone! He had to see if they were all right.

"I'm not going anywhere!" Elliot blurted, stepped away, wings going rigid. He felt the feathers ruffling as his fists clenched. "I have things I need to do here!"

"Kid-"

"No, shut up! I'm leaving now; get out of my head!" With a great arc of his white wings, he leapt to the air.

Then he realized how stupid that was. He didn't know how to fly! What was he thinking!?

A scream almost choked him, and in panic, he flapped his wings again, pushing himself higher. What!? No! That's not what he wanted! He wanted to go down, down!

He plummeted. No, not that fast! ACK!

He flapped again, rising up and breathing heavy as his heart raced. He needed to calm down; he would do himself no good without a steady head on his shoulders.

In that case, he was pretty much doomed. He'd known that before he… died. He glanced up at the moon, and simply basked in its light for a second, gathering his wits and flapping his new wings to keep himself in the air.

Then, he propelled himself forward experimentally, testing the air. A slight breeze wafted over the trees, catching under his wings. He felt it, wafting through his feathers and tugging at him. He unfurled his wings, letting the wind catch them. It pushed him forward, and he let it.

As he made his way toward the cluster of lights that was Reveille, he got used to having to angle his wings separately in order to steer. Finally, he made it to the city, and hovered over it.

Where would Leo be? The Nightray mansion… Well, the mansion was empty now, save for maybe… maybe his father.. There was no way his servant had gone back there. Not after he'd heard him scream the way he had… Elliot shuddered again.

Pandora? No. Leo was right in the middle of it all. Pandora would have wanted to capture him, and Elliot had no doubt that the noire would have somehow escaped.

So where on earth could he be?

"Oi, Gumby!"

He started, and looked down, where the rabbit leaned against the brick wall of an alleyway. He spun what looked like a boomerang in his hand… paw… whatever.

The rabbit sighed. "If you're lookin' for your friend… Follow me. Quickly. We shouldn't be here longer than we 'ave to." Without waiting for an answer, he bounded into the shadows. The thing knew Elliot would follow; he scowled. That ticked him off.

But he followed anyway. The rabbit seemed to know the backstreets well, and Elliot had a hard time keeping up and avoiding running into buildings at the same time.

Then they came upon… The Nightray mansion. Elliot frowned, halting in the air with a little trouble.

No way. Leo would never come back here! He knew him!

Didn't he?

The rabbit gestured to the half-burnt mansion. Elliot felt like it had been forever since he lived there. "He's in there, with your brother."

"Gil?"

"The other one."

The only other living one. Elliot cringed.

Vincent.

He swooped toward the house, and landed on the steps. With a shaky hand, he reached for the door, and opened it.

"Leo?" he called, voice echoing off the walls. There was no response.

Gulping, he proceeded ahead. He squared his shoulders, pushing away the fear. Now was not the time. Who knew what Leo was going through right now.

The whole house felt eerie now. His footsteps seemed loud and disruptive in the dark silence. All the lights were out, yet not everything felt empty. It felt like there was a light on somewhere.

Sure enough, as he began scouring the second floor, he found lamps lit, curtains closed, and a single door open in the middle of the hall. Voices floated from within, and he picked up his pace.

He poked his head through the door, and sighed in relief. Then his eyebrows raised in surprise.

Leo, he… Elliot could see his eyes from here, across the room! Vincent stood just behind him, setting aside a pair of scissors.

Ha. So he'd gotten the nerve to do it at last.

"You requested not to have it cut too short, so I kept the overall form."

"…You are very skillful at this."

Something was wrong. Leo didn't sound like Leo. His voice was… lower, sadder, somber. It was still Leo's voice, but… off. He sounded defeated, like sorrow had completely consumed him. Well, Elliot would just have to go drag him to his feet and remedy that.

"Leo!" he barked, striding into the room.

Neither occupant reacted. Vincent patted Leo's shoulder. "I am honored by your compliments, Master Leo. I used to cut my brother's hair long ago, so… I have a bit of confidence when it comes to handling scissors."

Somehow, Elliot didn't quite believe that. But he was more irked with the fact that somehow, despite his volume, he'd gone completely ignored. "Hello!? I'm speaking to you two!"

"The way you're speaking…"

"Yes?"

"Could you stop?" Leo glared up at Vincent, annoyed. Elliot slowed as he came closer, curious and a little concerned at this side to his friend he'd never seen. "I don't know you all that well, personally, but from what I've heard, you're a pervert with loose screws and a sick brother complex."

Well, he wasn't wrong.

Vincent just laughed. "Don't be silly! You will not find an honest man who is as pure and wholehearted as I, if I do say so myself. Furthermore, I've sworn my loyalty to you and naturally, I would never behave in a way that would disgrace my master."

Elliot had to laugh at that. While he didn't hate Vincent, he'd lived with the guy long enough not to trust a single word he said. Still, he stepped toward them, determined to make them notice him.

"Loyalty, huh?" Leo looked sly, an ill-befitting expression if Elliot ever saw one. This wasn't the teasing slyness that Leo used when he poked fun at Elliot. This was… completely different. "So in other words, you're already Glen's dog?"

"Not Glen's. Yours." Vincent pulled off the sheet from Leo's shoulders, and stray strands of loose raven hair fell to the floor.

"So you'll do anything I say?"

Vincent walked to the vanity, setting the sheet aside as well. "Yes."

"If I told you to go die, would you do it?"

Wait, what? Elliot scowled, walking faster across the room. This wasn't right.

"Yes, so long as you promised to fulfill my wish without fail once I was dead."

Elliot stepped between the two, glaring down at Leo, ignoring Vincent as the blond man came up behind him. "Leo, what the heck- WHAT-"

A shudder wracked through him as Vincent stepped right into him. Not bumping him. Standing in the same space, standing _in _him. It was as if Elliot wasn't even there. With a flash of blue mist, Elliot staggered back, eyes wide and heart pounding. He shivered.

That was the most horrid, emptiest feeling he had ever experienced. Why… why? He didn't, couldn't understand. Why did Vincent walk through him? Could… could they not see him?

"You're invisible to them, mate."

Lethargically, Elliot turned to face the strange rabbit, who stood along the wall, staring at Vincent and Leo sadly. The creature shook his head. "Non-believers… We're all invisible to them."

The twosome in question carried on talking as if nothing had happened. Elliot watched, still horrified, as Leo demanded that Vincent lick his shoe.*

It was so wrong, all wrong, all of it! Nothing felt right. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Elliot stared, haunted, at the rabbit. "Who are you?"

The rabbit attempted a sympathetic smile. "The name's E. Aster Bunnymund. My friends call me Bunny; you can do th' same if ya like."

So wrong. Elliot shook his head to himself, feeling in no mood for cheer or friendly gestures.

"What about you, kid? You got a name?"

"…It… It was… Elliot."

"I thought as much. If I were you…" The rabbit didn't look to happy to be the one saying this. Elliot tore his gaze back to the two humans. "I would try t' forget about it. You'll be getting your explanations and a new name soon enough."

Explanations sounded nice. New name… The longer Elliot watched two people he was once familiar with converse like absolute strangers to him, the more he liked that idea as well. A new name. A new start. Some answers.

And maybe, some way to fill this new emptiness that had settled in his chest, and begun to gnaw at his heart.

* * *

_*This short scene is from the Pandora Hearts Special Comic: Servant and Scissors by Jun Mochizuki. As always, neither Pandora Hearts and Rise of the Guardians, nor any of their canon characters, belong to me._


	2. Brief Encounter

The winter spirit lounged in a sturdy oak, making decorative ice spread out over the branches, grey in their winter slumber. He swung his staff carelessly, frosting over any leaves remaining on the limbs left over from autumn. With a sigh, he slid down to hang upside down on the branch by his knees.

Bored. So. Dang. Bored.

He sighed, feeling the chilled blood rush to his head. Good ol' Mother Nature wasn't letting him let loose over the American continent yet. He'd already spread snowstorms over most of the northern hemisphere, but she said that he could bring a blizzard next month. And of course, in the meantime, he felt the wintery forces building up within him, begging to be freed.

He made a face, even if no one was there to see it. Stupid Mother Nature.

A flurry, maybe Burgess needed a flurry. Sure, no one could see him… but at least it was something to do. He found himself gravitating toward the small village often whenever he needed an outlet, something constructive to do. Or needed to escape from the other Seasons; that wasn't going to work much longer, though… Sooner or later, they'd find his little corner of the world. More like a… a woodgrain. Yes, it was his woodgrain of the world.

Dropping down from the branch, he gathered the wind and bid it carry him the short distance to the small town. It had changed a bit in the last century, but not much. Still small, still community oriented, still avoiding that treacherous pond he'd drowned in…

And his niece and nephews! It was always fun to visit them and their families.

He lowered himself onto the mainstreet of Burgess, glancing around even as he made ice crawl over the bonfire pit. With a wave of his staff, he sent a flurry whipping into the air, where it condensed into a cloud high in the sky, beginning to expand and rain down fluttering snowflakes.

Much better. For now, anyway.

He chuckled a bit as some children came out into the street, giggling with delight at the snowfall. They rushed back inside, and soon reappeared all bundled in their snow gear. Smiling, he weighted the snowfall, bringing down bigger flakes. "Here you go, kids! Enjoy!" Jack Frost laughed, covering up the ache he felt as all eyes ignored him.

A group of three little boys approached a small girl with a ragged teddy bear, and yanked on her pigtail. "Hey piglet!" said the tallest of the tree.

"Go away, Jesse…"

"Aw, but I just wanted to see how the flea farm is doing." With that, the one called Jesse snatched her bear away, and darted away. His buddies followed, sniggering while the girl cried after them.

"Stop it, you guys!" the little one sniffled, giving chase.

Jesse waved the bear high and then held it out to the girl. "Okay, okay, sorry."

She reached for it, and before her fingers even touched it, he tossed it over her head to one of his buddies. "Go get it!"

"Hey!" the girl cried, and turned to go after her bear.

Jack sighed, coming close but without much enthusiasm. He couldn't do a single thing to help them. And with a sigh, he supposed that he could give them all the snow in the world, and it really wouldn't fix this. "Come on, now, guys… Treat the lady nice."

Of course, they couldn't hear him. The boys continued their game of keep-away, tossing the bear back and forth until the girl slipped on a patch of ice, flailing onto her side. She didn't get up, and instead curled up, sniffling.

A bolt of brilliant red light whipped over Jack's head and plunged into Jesse's chest, making the boy freeze with his eyes on the girl just before he tossed the bear again.

"…Lisa?"Jesse stepped closer to the fallen girl, while Jack whirled around, eyes searching for the source of the sudden burst of light. Where on-

On a pair of brilliant white wings, a young man soared into the street, and landed a few yards away. With confident strides, he approached. Jack frowned at unfamiliar red hair, and bright cobalt eyes. The angelic youth wore a rich blue waistcoat with gold buttons, a loose white Greek-esque tunic underneath (strange combination, Jack had to admit; the two different time frames clashed, yet somehow seemed to fit), the hem of which reached his knees. He wore golden Greek sandals with knee-high lacing; each sandal sported a pair of gold wings on the ankles. Gold fern tendrils tucked behind his ears as well, forming a sort of circlet, and almost gave him a mischievous sprite-eared look. A bladed bow was strapped to his back with a leather belt, but Jack saw no quiver, and the bow didn't even have a string.

None of the children seemed to notice him, either. Something, despite the situation, had Jack feeling glad that he wasn't the only one that was invisible to mortals.

The red haired boy passed Jack with a sidelong glance and then knelt beside the girl, Lisa, as Jesse approached hesitantly.

"Lisa… I didn't mean it. We were just having fun… We thought you'd laugh." Gently, the boy set the bear beside the huddled girl.

The unfamiliar immortal raised a hand; white sparks flowed from it like dust in sunlight, and the youth blew them over the girl's face. Slowly, she sat up, still sniffling, and pulled her bear close. She stared into the toy's face, brushing snow off his ears.

"I guess… It's okay," she mumbled. As the youth patted her head, Lisa suddenly grinned, and held up her bear. "Figgy says he's never gotten to fly before! He wants to try it again!"

Jesse laughed. "What Figgy says goes, then!"

"Jess-" started one of the other boys in irritation. Jesse silenced him with a glare. Jack chuckled.

The other two boys moved off, grumbling to themselves, as Lisa tossed Figgy the Bear gently to Jesse. He caught it, and then tossed it back.

To give them an extra ounce of fun, Jack sent some glowing blue snowflakes their way, and their laughter rang out clearer. Soon, the street erupted into a snowball fight that had the children squealing.

Jack almost lost sight of the bowman, and searched the street and skies before finding him walking back toward the woods.

"Hey, wait a minute!" Jack stumbled after him. He rarely ever saw other immortals; he wasn't about to let this chance slip. He had only ever seen Nicholas St. North once (in passing on a Christmas night), and the Man In The Moon never spoke to him. Bunny only ever came around to scold him for a late frost every now and then. Sandman saw him the most, but of course the little mute man wasn't much for conversation.

The young immortal paused and glanced over his shoulder, waiting for Jack to catch up. Once the winter spirit did, he caught his breath and stared.

The redhead was at least two inches shorter than him. Quite a grand appearance for such a… small kid. Jack wondered how old he was – or at least, how old he was supposed to look. He still wasn't quite sure how the age thing worked for immortals.

"What did you do back there?" Jack asked, figuring he'd claim curiosity for now and not start with names.

Blue eyes that looked far too ancient for the face they were set in glanced back toward the village. "Kids shouldn't fight so much. There's plenty of time for that when they grow up." He started walking again, and Jack fell into step beside him.

That was a profound statement for someone who appeared to still be a kid himself. Jack made a face, studying the boy. "That doesn't explain what you did."

"Take a guess."

Jack frowned. What a sourpuss; the kid didn't even look up at all! And he spoke with an unenthusiastic monotone and a bland, but sharp gaze that remained straight ahead. "How could I when I've never met you before?"

"You have a brain, don't you?"

Gosh, wasn't this kid even grateful that Jack could see him, speak to him? Jack would be. "I just asked you a question, is all."

"Good for you."

"Who woke you up on the wrong side of sunrise?" said Jack with a wry grin. Hey, wait a minute… Bow, wings, Greek attire (excluding the obvious Victorian twists), some sort of ability that makes kids get along… "I know! You're Cupid!"

The redhead's shoulders went rigid, but he kept walked. "Eros."

"Whatever; same difference." Jack quickened his pace to keep up. For a small guy, Cupid had a long stride! "For a guy who's supposed to signify love, you're sure in a sour mood."

"Shut up."

"Where on earth did the Man In The Moon drag you up?"

"I said shut up." Bright eyes glared back at him. "I don't even know you; why would I tell you anything?"

"Because no one else can see you either."

This caused a visible reaction – a deep cringe, followed by an even deeper glare. If looks could kill…

"Look – I have stuff to do," the redhead uttered, scowling. "Two soulmates are about to meet in Nova Scotia, and I have to help some people out in Portugal and Italy, so can you leave me alone?"

"Ooh, Nova Scotia, I bet they're due for a good snow."

"You dumped them with a foot last week."

"You can never have too much snow!"

Cupid – or Eros, Jack supposed – clenched his fists. "Buzz off, Frost."

"Come on, lighten up."

"Bunnymund said you were trouble."

Jack's eyebrows rose. "Did he?"

"Yes. Now, goodbye; I'm busy." Eros spread his wings.

"Hey, wait-"

He took to the sky with a burst of cold air, leaving Jack in a swirl of snow. Said wintery prince pouted with a huff.

Stink. Well. He'd just have to follow Cupid one of these days.

* * *

**A/N: And there is the first meeting. :) Since these are drabbles, things won't necessarily go in chronological order; this particular oneshot takes place about 20 years after Elliot's death. Let me know what you think, and if you have any prompts you'd like to see done.**


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